Icarus

Chapter 3

TW nose bleed

(There are a lot of breaks in this one, just pov switching)

He watched as Phil took Tommy away. Crouching in the bushes like a coward. He was no coward, but, as the situation changed, his tactic had to as well. Adaption was his specialty. And one he took every advantage of.

His anger boiled up. Just because he could easily adapt, didn't mean he particularly liked it. It had taken him far too long to isolate Tommy. Far too long to break him down. Manipulate his wishes. Rewire his brain. And now? Now there was a high probability of him coming back to his senses.

He stood from his hiding place, striding over to the small pond in which Philza had fished Tommy out of. Looking down into it, he saw a small red triangle, floating in the water. Rolling up his sleeves, he plunged his hand into the liquid.

Pulling it out, he smiled. He took his mask off, revealing his slightly scared face.

"Tommy. You can't get away from me that easily."

Drying off his arm, he stretched out the red cloth. 

Tommy's  bandana. Maybe....maybe there was still a chance.

                                                                                 *

It was dark. An inky blackness that sunk into Tommy. Choking him with an immaculate force. There were a lot of things that scared Tommy, although he'd never intentionally show it. One of them, where tight and narrow spaces. The feeling of presser on his chest made him panic stricken.

Gasping from the intensity He bolted upright in the bed.

"Tommy? You awake?" he heard the question from his left.

He tensed, before realizing who it had been. The bed sunk slightly as Phil sat next to him.

"You good mate?" Tommy could hear the softness in his voice.

Pity. Tommy hated to be pitied. It made him feel weak and incapable.

"What the **** do you want?" he grumbled, trying to bring any slight annoyance into Philza, hoping to banish the reassurance the man tried to bring.

A sigh. "Tommy, I'm not trying to belittle you." Phil knew of the boys tactics. He knew that asking if he was okay was thoroughly frowned upon.

"Come down when you're ready. I made some breakfast," he said, patting the younger on the shoulder.

                                                                                                          *

The air had gotten colder as he followed the trail. He wanted to find Tommy first. Make sure he was still in some workable condition. Some moldable fashion.

He shifted his mask slightly, mapping out every mark in the ground he saw that had been made by Phil in his mind. Every slight suggestion of a track. He'd find them. It's wasn't that difficult, especially since the footprints had been deepened by the fact Phil had been carrying Tommy. He wasn't a little kid anymore.

He stopped. A flower had taken root in the frosted landscape. He crouched down and brushed a finger over its whitened pedals. They were soft. Oh so soft. The flower almost glowed in the grayed tundra.

He gasped as a voice scream in the back of his skull. A flash of hazel hair and the familiar sent of chocolate chip cookies wafted over him. 

His eyes widened as he drew away from the flower. He...he though he had gotten rid of that. Had purged himself from the sentiment. Erased them.